Chapter 452
Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You can’t afford me now
Chapter 452:
Hadley was completely thrown off.
What was Eric doing here?
And why did he sound like thatâlike he had every right to be standing in front of her, scolding her? What was with that entitled attitude?
She had met plenty of wealthy heirsâErnest wasnât like this. Neither was Denver.
A faint, incredulous laugh slipped past her lips. Was his bad temper reserved just for her?
Still, whatever his attitude, one fact remainedâhe had saved her. She couldnât ignore that.
Steadying herself, she attempted to break free from his grip. âListen⦠thank you for earlier.â
âWhat do you think youâre doing?â
Ericâs hand tightened around her waist, anchoring her in place, his lips curling into a faintly mocking smirk.
âAre you seriously trying to push me away? Can you even stand on your own right now?â
Hadley faltered, her breath catching.
Probably not.
âWhy are you looking at me like that?â he asked. âItâs not like Iâm the one who slipped you something.â
Hadley froze, her body rigid.
He heard everything? He knew what Wilma had done to her?
When did he even show up?
âEnough of this.â
Before Hadley could gather her thoughts, Eric let out a sigh and effortlessly scooped her up into his arms.
âIâve already started dealing with this mess, so I might as well see it through. Whereâs your room?â
Was he seriously this considerate?
She wanted to doubt him, but she was too weak to resist. Reluctantly, she mumbled her room number.
âSorry to trouble you,â she whispered.
Eric didnât even hesitate. âAs long as you realize itâs trouble.â
He set her down at the door, reached into her pocket, and pulled out the key card. The door clicked open, and just as she thought she might finally regain some autonomy, he scooped her up again and carried her inside like it was standard procedure.
She barely had time to process it before he crossed the room in a few long strides and lowered her onto the bed. He even adjusted her hair so it wouldnât bother her, smoothing the strands with quiet patience.
Then, he pulled the blanket over her, tucking it in just enough to keep her comfortable.
But he didnât leave after all that. Instead, he remained by the bedside, arms crossed, his sharp eyes locked onto her face, studying every flicker of emotion.
He frowned. âHow are you feeling?â
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